I am meeting a girl for a first date at a coffee place. I have seen her online a few times (she’s very active on social media) and I admit, she is absolutely beautiful. She’s obviously into the “finer” things in life and seems to have a lot of “photoshoots”, but I don’t see that as any immediate red flags.

I walk in, and she’s sitting there already. We say hello, I start the small talk, and then she holds up her hand.

Date: “Okay, so I am just going to say my piece and potentially save us a lot of time. I’m a queen, and I deserve to be treated as such. I only agreed to meet you because you have a good job and I can tell you make good money. If you’re lucky enough to be considered to be in a relationship with me, then here are the rules that I will not budge on.”

She pauses, I think (I hope) for me to say something, but she’s simply catching her breath for the next part of her speech.

Date: “You will be the provider. You will buy me things, and you will pay for dinners. You will take me on trips, and you will fly us first class. We will stay in five-star hotels, and you will take me shopping whenever I want to. In return, I will always look beautiful for you, and I will make sure all my followers on Instagram know that you’re my boyfriend.”

I’m about to go, “Wow,” but there’s more!

Date: “I expect you to hold yourself to a standard that maintains our lifestyle and how we are seen in the world. This means you will need to dress better, and you will need to learn how to take good photos of me on our trips. If you can’t learn to take good photos, then you will pay for a professional photographer to accompany us. I notice that you drove here in a Prius; that has to go. If you care about the environment, that’s fine, but they make expensive electric sports cars now, and you will need to make sure we’re seen in one of those.”

At this point, I have stopped trying to interrupt, and I am simply listening to see how deep down this girl’s particular brand of crazy goes.

Date: “If you maintain all this and you treat me like the queen I am, then you will be graced with my presence. If you do not agree to absolutely everything I have just said, then it’s best that we part ways right now.”

Finally, I am allowed to weigh in on this conversation. I finish my water, I stand up, nod to her, and then walk away. I simply hear her sigh and say:

Date: “Yet another little rat. How disappointing.”

Wow. I mean, I am ALL for women (or anyone) having high standards for themselves and those they choose to date, but yikes!

Customer: “I want a decaf hot iced blonde vanilla latte.”

Me: “Hot… iced?“

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “Do you normally have this drink hot or cold?”

Customer: “It’s in the name! Duh! Decaf hot iced blonde vanilla latte.”

Me: “So… hot?”

Customer: “Why is this so hard for you?”

Me: “Because you also said iced, which means cold.”

Customer: “Can I get someone else to make my drink? You seem a little slow. I’ve been ordering this drink for years, and I never have an issue.”

You’ve been ordering this for years not seeing a problem with your wording, but I’m the slow one? Riiiiight. I just made her a decaf hot blonde vanilla latte, and she seemed satisfied.

I am working in the drive-thru at a twenty-four-hour coffee place in San Diego. It’s Comic-Con season, and we’re not far from the convention center, so we’ve already had some characters come through.

A car pulls up, and I recognize the driver and three passengers as Hogwarts faculty: the driver is Albus Dumbledore, and the passengers are Minerva McGonagall, “Mad-Eye” Moody, and Severus Snape. It’s amazing!

Me: “Sorry, professors, we’re all out of butterbeer.”

Dumbledore: “Alas! We’ll have to settle for your finest Muggle beverages.”

They’re all a hoot as I take their orders. When I ask for payment, Dumbledore reaches out with his wand. He waves the wand over our card reader, and magically, the payment goes through!

And with that, they pull forward to the pick-up counter. That was already awesome enough, but then I hear Dumbledore announce to my coworker after they’ve been handed their drinks:

Dumbledore: “Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.”

And off they went with their Muggle drinks.

I’m driving cross-country because of a serious family medical emergency. I stop at a highway rest stop somewhere along the way to get gas and grab something to eat and drink on the road.

Because this is around 2020 or 2021, only two out of the eight or so food places inside are open — fast food burgers and a coffee chain. All of the tables and chairs have been removed.

I wait in line to order coffee. There are two people working; a cashier and a barista. Because of social distancing, after people order, they spread out and wait for their names to be called when their coffees are ready.

There are about five orders ahead of me that haven’t been made yet. A woman who was behind me in line pushes to the front and gets inches away from the barista’s face.

Pushy Woman: “I’m going to need you to make the two cappuccinos and the hot chocolate before you make anyone else’s drinks.”

Barista: “Please stand back. You’re going to have to wait your turn.”

Pushy Woman: “You need to take care of me first! I’m not waiting. I’m in a hurry and I want to get back on the road!”

I couldn’t believe the level of entitlement and disrespect — and the obliviousness.

The barista refused to push up the order, and the woman had to wait her turn with the rest of us — who also just wanted to get back on the road.

I was working my new job, and I had been told all of the procedures necessary to do it well. We gave out discount cards so if you purchased six coffees, your next one was free.

I was working the bottom window. The order taker had put through the correct size for a free drink using the free coffee discount. I got the drinks ready and handed them out.

The customer then looked at me angrily.

Customer: “Why is it a medium drink? I paid for large ones!”

I then looked at their order and receipts again.

Me: “You used your discount to get the free coffee; that size is medium. You haven’t paid for these drinks; it’s free.”

Maybe it was my seventeen-year-old mind being so blunt about it, but those had always been the rules as far as I was taught.

Customer: *Disgusted* “Well, you are just a c**t, then!”

Then, he took the coffee from me and drove away!

I closed the window and turned round to my coworkers, who were shocked at what had happened since it was my first day. I just laughed.

Me: “Well, I guess I am a c**t for not giving those p**sies what they wanted.”

I have now been working there for five years, and so far, the customer has never been right!